


Damn Caves

by fangirlflail



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Badgermoles, Banter, Druids, Elemental Magic, M/M, Magical Artifacts, Quest, Sex In A Cave, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-22
Updated: 2012-05-06
Packaged: 2017-11-04 03:33:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/389274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlflail/pseuds/fangirlflail
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is going on a quest up north and he’s not going alone. Merlin must help the Crown Prince brave imminent mortal peril and face another ultimate test. (Set toward the end of Season 2, canon!verse).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to E who not only coached fun ideas but also provided the prompt: “Arthur goes on a quest up north and there are cuddles.” My undying appreciation goes out to A, my editor. Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.

  


Arthur was to embark on a quest, which, in and of itself was not out of the ordinary. In fact, it was becoming quite regular and rather annoying.

Perhaps the most irksome aspect of the whole process was his servant’s endless complaints preceding, during, and after the act of packing. Again, they were at a standstill.

“I told you, Merlin,” Arthur practically spat as he lounged in his usual chair by the fireplace with his feet upon the table. He had a positively bored expression on his face as he spun a dagger in his hands. “We’re headed NORTH, therefore it will be COLD.”

“Yeah, but what sort of cold? Like…I ought to pack enough for a blizzard or it’s-nearly-spring-but-still-a-bit-nippy cold?”

Arthur could never figure out why Merlin always made such a fuss. Perhaps it was because the lanky servant wasn’t very fit for roughing it in the woods like his knights or maybe it was because he had nothing else to worry about besides the menial details. Either way, they had been on enough trips that the two had developed a rhythm and routine for the night before. Although they had never traveled this far north before, Arthur was certain it would be more challenging in only one way: he would have to stand Merlin for two weeks rather than two days. Oh and the mountains.

\--

“Now you’re sure you have everything, Merlin,” Gaius asked for the fifth time. He peered up from the tome he had been studying on his work bench to gaze at the young wizard exiting. His stare halted Merlin in his steps toward the door and the boy spun around.

“Yes! I told you I’ve got every-”

Gaius held a small vial in his hand, gave it a little wiggle, and smirked.

Sighing, Merlin sulked back toward the old physician. He pouted as he begrudgingly took the corked potion and tucked it in a pouch at his waist. Gaius placed a hand on the boy’s already burdened shoulders. “Don’t worry, Merlin. With such a forgetful mind you’re sure to be back in Camelot soon. You won’t get a morning’s ride away before Arthur will realize you’ve forgotten to pack his socks.”

Sinking into the work bench Merlin tipped his head back onto the only book-free space to stare at Gaius with a look the man knew all too well. “Why does he have to go on another quest anyway? And why do I have to go?”

“You know the answers to those questions, Merlin. Now you’re just stalling.”

“But I mean, honestly!” the wizard fought, settling his elbows on his knees. “Why does he have to be so _ridiculously_ chivalrous?”

Gaius closed the book firmly and ignored the puff of dust that dispersed into the sun-lit room. It was the late morning, still several hours before they would leave. “It has nothing to do with chivalry. Arthur must make amends with the Druids. He made a promise.”

“He wouldn’t’ve had to make the stupid promise if he hadn’t gone and hunted where he ought not to in the first place!” Merlin carried on before the physician could interrupt. “You know I’m always looking after him trying to keep him out of trouble, trouble with magic, yeah, and then he goes and ‘accidentally’ kills another magical creature, which by the way, a Druid was attempting to protect! And as luck would have it, gets nearly slaughtered by bandits so that he has to make a promise to restore balance. You’d think he’d learn after the unicorn, hmm? But no.”

Gaius chuckled, but when he received a sharp glare from the wizard he allowed himself to sober. There was no way Merlin was getting out of this.

“You know what’s at stake here,” Gaius started, placing a hand on the table top for leverage as he leaned toward the boy. “Arthur’s destiny. Your destiny.”

“I know, I know…it just…” Merlin exhaled, looking up at the man who was the closest he had ever known to a father. “…sometimes it feels like he’ll never understand.”

“He will—in time, but for now this is the way it must be.”

The boy grumbled but stood and tromped toward the door. The metal buckles on his boots glinted as he passed through the sunlit patches dotting the stone floor. He still had a great number of chores to do at the palace. Gaius followed to see him out.

“Be safe, Merlin,” Gaius chanted softly, grabbing his charge into a close hug. “Look after Arthur _and_ yourself.”

“I will,” the boy confirmed, inhaling the scent of thyme and lavender before releasing the older man.

\--

Merchants packed the lower square, shouting over one another in their stalls of fresh produce, grains, and fertilizer. Despite the crowds, Arthur and Merlin had managed to weave their horses toward the city’s main gate where they met Guinevere for supplies.

“Quit your whining, Merlin! We’ll only be gone for two weeks,” the crown prince barked.

With a scowl Merlin turned to his best friend and gave her a hug. “I’ll be back soon. Keep an eye on Gaius for me?”

Gwen nodded under her cloak with a warm smile, handing over the food parcels. “Of course. Ride safe and try not to get frostbite or anything. I hear it’s very unpleasant.”

“…thanks,” Merlin returned, his forehead creased in sarcasm with a hint of worry. He quirked an eyebrow at her. Gwen had the funniest ways, a beautiful heart but painfully tactless. It was a trait that had attracted Merlin and no doubt his inopportune clumsiness helped forge their friendship.

He secured the provisions in a pack on his horse before hoisting himself up onto the saddle. Merlin smiled at Gwen and followed Arthur toward the outer wall, pivoting in his seat to wave as they passed through the gate.

Arthur had told his father that he intended to hunt at the edge of Camelot’s borders. If all went according to plan, Uther would never discover the real reason behind his son’s trip. It had nothing to do with the Druids and certainly nothing to do with magic!

\--

The first day was the easiest of the entire trip, which was surprising considering they had ridden through the night. It began when Merlin nearly passed out on his horse. Arthur noticed only when his companion’s constant babble dripped away. He turned just in time to see the dark head loll forward.

“Merlin!” Arthur snapped, slowing his mount just enough so that their horses came side-by-side. He watched as the servant’s eyes flashed open at his name and he stammered out a response.

“I’m sorry…” he groaned. Letting go of the reigns with his left hand, Merlin used the heel of his palm to rub his eye and frowned. Creases pulled his features tightly toward the bridge of his nose.

“Well it’s no use continuing if I’m just gonna have to drag you along so we may as well stop,” Arthur nudged his horse with his knees. “Let’s just find the river crossing and make camp.”

“Really?” Merlin asked. His entire face lit up, eyes wide, eyebrows high, and mouth open in anticipation. He encouraged his horse forward.

\--

“That was not funny, Arthur.”

“Got another three hours ride from you didn’t it?” the prince grinned, a laugh threatening to escape as he dismounted and threw his reigns up.

Merlin shook his head with his lips puckered closed. He stared at the back of Arthur’s blonde head. He swore, later at some unsuspecting moment, he would use small magic to whack that man upside the head with a tree branch or something.

“You are a prat.”

“Oh come on, Merlin,” Arthur wasn’t really trying very hard to conceal his amusement, “You and I both know that you would have fallen asleep on the spot if I hadn’t told you we’d get there soon. Now look, here we are.”

He gestured toward the running water just beyond the circle of trees surrounding them.

“Half a day later!”

“We made great time because _you_ didn’t let your body get in the way of your mind,” Arthur pointed out, tilting his head as if to tempt his servant to argue. Grumbling instead, Merlin dismounted as well. His rear was sore from rubbing against the leather saddle and his legs were restless from bumping against his knapsack. When his feet hit the ground, Merlin nearly crumpled, but he held up and followed Arthur’s lead, tying his horse off before removing a paper parcel from the pack on its back.

“I can’t help it,” Merlin said, finding the softest spot of ground and settling in exhaustion.

Evening neared. The sunlight had turned to a soft pink hue so that through the trees the river could clearly be seen without the blinding reflections morning brought. The chirping noises and gentle rustlings around them also signaled the oncoming night. Nocturnal creatures would be awakening soon. Merlin sighed, unfolding the parcel to portion out the food: a roll of bread and some fruit. “I never went camping when I lived in Ealdor. We never had to because we never went anywhere. Traveling is not like a hard days’ work. It’s not manual labour. It’s different.”

“I would think you’d feel sorrier for the horse.” Arthur knew how Merlin took to animals.

“Yeah. I can’t imagine you sitting on me all day, ordering me what to do,” returned Merlin with a laugh, “Oh wait. Yes I can.”

“Come off it. You’d be bored without all the things I tell you to do. Besides, it’s character building.” He settled across from Merlin in the fading shade and checked the surroundings with a sweeping glance before turning back to his manservant. “You barely knew how to ride a horse before you came to Camelot. Now you know how to care for one too.”

“Oh yeah? Great. Since I’ll never own any that will be fantastic. What else do I do exactly, my lord?” Merlin asked, emphasizing the address.

Arthur rose to the challenge of the game, “Well you can draw up a bath, though apparently not without making it scalding hot or ice cold. You wash clothes and all that entails.”

Merlin nodded with a serious face, though they both knew it was sarcastic.

“You can polish armour and you’re learning how to make remedies from Gaius I presume. You can cook, though it’s barely tolerable. You’ve even been learning court etiquette—poorly, of course. You clean the floor and mend my boots.”

“So basically what you’re saying is you can’t survive a day without me,” Merlin grinned.

Arthur tossed a rock at him.

\--

Dusk faded and the night descended. Merlin set down his bedroll and Arthur wedged his traveling pack between his back and a fallen log.

“So why did you do it?” Merlin asked, staring into the flames he had conjured earlier the second Arthur’s back had been turned collecting wood.

“For fun. Why else?” his charge snorted in response. Arthur casually leaned back, shifting his position.

Merlin shook his head, “You know, for a Crown Prince, you sure are an idiot sometimes.”

“And what makes you think you can get on talking to me like that?” Arthur’s tone was indignant, though the hint of a challenging smile began to form just at the corners of his mouth.

“Because,” Merlin began, chucking a twig into the campfire, “I know you.” His eyes illuminated by the hearth darted up to catch the prince’s. “I’m your friend. And-” he drew the word out, “-it helps that none of your knights are here.”

Arthur gave a hearty laugh.

“You know what I mean. Why did you make that promise to the Druid?”

The prince remained quiet for so long Merlin was convinced the man had either chosen to ignore the question or hadn’t even heard. When he spoke, the answer was composed and Merlin was convinced of its sincerity immediately.

“Because I don’t think they’re all bad people. Because the fault—his life was in my hands. I made the wrong choice, again.” Arthur looked up through the popping flames and in a brief moment Merlin caught a glimpse of the future king shining through. “It’s my duty to make things right.”


	2. Chapter 2

  


They stared. There was not another appropriate response. For a whole minute, both of them sat atop their mounts agape, marveling at the beauty. From their position on the ridge they had a wide view of the landscape which stretched for miles. In the foreground, golden meadows bordered a glistening river that curved its way past a barren forest. Towering evergreens shielded the base of the white-capped mountains. Piercing the clouds above, the giants loomed, a promise of the distance the pair still needed to travel within the next week.

“Isn’t it funny?”

“Hnn?”

“The mountains,” Merlin nodded. He looked ahead, his gaze unfaltering. “They’re scaleless.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur frowned.

“I mean, to us they look large because we’re standing around trees and we know that those,” Merlin pointed toward the evergreens wreathing the base of the largest peak, “are trees like these so we have a sense of what it’s going to be like when we’re there, but if we just sit here and imagine that those trees are single strands of grass, you get a whole different feeling like the mountains are just little stones in a giant field.”

Merlin stared for a moment more before he felt Arthur’s gaze upon him. He turned to meet bright blue eyes staring at him. They were equally scrutinizing. Merlin blinked. An odd expression crossed the prince’s face before it contorted to a half-sneer.

“You are the strangest man I have ever met,” Arthur scoffed. He pulled the leather reigns, urging his horse to step down the path.

Merlin took one last look of the all-encompassing view before he followed.

\--

Through fields of wildflowers, crops from the outlying lands and beyond meadows all alike the two men continued without rest. By mid-morning on the third day a summer rain had started. Merlin squinted in the bright sun as they passed through wide valleys and followed the edge of the river.

“Arthur…”

"If you’re going to ask if we can stop again, the answer is ‘no’.”

“Nevermind.”

They rode in silence with only the wind as company. The constant gusts brushed rows of wheat and ushered a calming hiss from the stalks as Arthur and Merlin’s steeds pushed through the tall meadow grasses. The sky, chipper in the strange way summer rain could fall without rainclouds seemed to mock their crawling nature with its flocks of crows and fast-moving wisps.

Merlin studied them.

“Looks like a rabbit.”

“Oh no. I’m not playing this game with you.”

“Just saying…” Merlin continued to stare at the clouds. He knew the temptation to win coupled with boredom would produce a response.

There was a full ten seconds before the prince answered, “It’s definitely more like a raven.”

“A raven? How do you see a raven in that?”

Arthur slowed his mount so the two men could ride side-by-side. He gestured with his left hand, the gauntlet clanking and tinkling as it contacted the light rain. “There. Your rabbit ears are its wings. It’s in flight.”

Merlin tilted his head one direction, pulling a strained face before tipping it the other direction. The more he looked at it, the more it seemed possible. Deciding to give up, he pointed to another. “Well what about that one?”

“Goblet.”

“Creative.”

“Chalice then. It’s got jewels and everything! It’s even foaming.”

“Showing your princely side a bit there.”

Arthur took a swing at Merlin from his horse, but the servant ducked readily and laughed.

“Pray tell, what do _you_ think it is then?”

Merlin smiled and pointed. “It’s obviously two people coming to meet each other. Those bubbles are their heads and arms! Their backs there and those are their legs.”

“How do you explain the feet then? Pretty large feet.”

“Clearly one of them is wearing a dress or a cloak. It widens at the bottom.”

Arthur laughed, shaking his head. “You are ridiculous. You go out of your way to make these things up.”

“No. We just don’t see eye-to-eye sometimes. You just can’t see what I do.”

“I see better than you. You can see what I see; you just refuse to accept it.”

“Maybe I don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

Merlin paused. His mind worked to formulate an appropriate response which would express his point but not offend the prince. “Sometimes your gaze is particular. You limit your experiences by excluding all that is possible.  You don’t challenge yourself to find alternatives. You only focus on the first option that suits your desires and logic rather than your needs and faith. The most obvious and direct answer isn’t always the wisest. You just have to allow yourself to attempt the most outlandish option sometimes. Take a chance. Things are typically more complex than they appear.”

When Arthur didn’t reply, Merlin glanced over. The prince was frowning, looking straight ahead. He didn’t speak.

After half a minute, Merlin put on his best nonchalant attitude in an attempt to relieve the tension. “Also, it’s not my job to accept what you see.”

Arthur broke from his reverie, though Merlin could still observe the creases in Arthur’s forehead from his unsettling thoughts. They were quickly buried by lines of mockery.

“Isn’t it?” Arthur asked in a tone of wonder, as if he needed to ponder on the matter deeply. “I thought that’s what a servant did. Believed in his prince? Took his word as law?”

Merlin smirked as Arthur listed the traits of a good servant before he replied, “Yes, but only when he’s right and if I did who would be there to keep him out of trouble? If I listened to him all the time _certain people_ would never have gotten out of half the scrapes with his father.”

“ _You_ keep _me_ out of trouble?” Arthur took the lead again. “The times I’ve saved you from the dungeons.”

“Yeah and the times I took the fall for you and got rotten food chucked at me in the stocks!”

“That was worth it though.”

“Elopement to a known sorceress?”

“No, the you and public humiliation bit.”

“Arse.”

Arthur shot his friend a smirk and slunk back on his horse to give Merlin a nudge with his elbow. He was rewarded with a short smile. The words didn’t come easily, but he found that their banter helped ease his mind. Looking ahead, the prince’s eyes seemed to hunt the landscape.

But his thoughts were elsewhere and it was apparent in his voice. “I’m glad you’re with me, Merlin.”

\--

On the fourth day they were assaulted by a band of rogues who had obviously been drawn to what appeared to be easy targets. Arthur managed to stay conscious and defend them admirably, taking down each bandit with an even sword stroke. Merlin was not so lucky. After properly knocking out two in the most discreet way possible he took a swipe on the arm and shoulder from a dagger before falling back into darkness.

Coming to with the strong smell of something under his nose, Merlin blinked blurry eyed and gasped awake.

“Arthur,” he breathed instinctively, squirming under a heavy blanket. His shoulder immediately twanged and Merlin winced. A fire blinded his vision so he closed his eyes.

“Woah,” whispered a soothing voice. A calloused hand touched his chest. “Honestly, you need to learn how to fight properly if you’re going to be of any use to me. You’re not a knight, but that doesn’t give you leeway to stand by and watch me take on thirty men.”

“There were ten,” Merlin croaked. He started to smile. He tried again to open his eyes and this time forced them to stay even when they stung. Merlin made out the blurry relief of Arthur’s face in firelight. The shadows formed strange shapes in the wash of warm hues. “The first time you tried training me in sword combat I nearly died.”

“I hit you upside the head and you gave up. I’d hardly call that a near death experience. Besides, maybe I’ve been doing it wrong.”

“Admitting fault. That doesn’t sound like you at all.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

Arthur stared a moment at the bandages he had wrapped around Merlin’s shoulder and upper arm. Blood had already stained them red; there was nothing to do but let it stop naturally. Arthur had only rudimentary medical knowledge. So long as none of the rouges’ blades were poisonous there was nothing to worry about.

“Maybe it’s not hand-to-hand combat you need to know. We should try you on archery.”

Merlin tried to laugh but it felt as though his sides were bruised. “When have I ever been precise? All those times we’ve gone hunting?”

“I think so long as you train yourself to shut up and find a good spot to stand or crouch, you’d probably do well as a sentry or scout,” Arthur replied, entirely practically. “It’s like anything. You said yourself you learn quickly. You can do this too. It only took you a day to learn how to dress me for combat.”

“It’s not exactly the same sort of pressure, is it? You would’ve sacked me; in battle if I fail we could die.”

Arthur gave him a wry smile. “All the more reason for you to learn. ‘Sides, how else am I going to amuse myself these next few days?”

Merlin moaned. “For the record, if you haven’t noticed, I’m hurt. I don’t expect I’ll be using my arm any time soon.”

“Don’t be such a woman, Merlin. It’s only a scratch and it’s not like it’s your right arm.”

“I’m left-handed,” the wizard snapped. “Also, being a woman could be an advantage. I’ve seen Morgana fight and she does a lot more damage than some of your men.”

“Shut up and rest. We’ll start in the morning.”

Closing his eyes, Merlin sighed. He felt a rustle beside him signal Arthur’s retreat.

\--

“Lower. Drop lower.”

“If I drop any lower it’ll be too low. You said so five seconds ago!”

Arthur hissed as he reached out with his bare hands and took Merlin’s elbow in his left and shoulder in his right. “Like this.”

He adjusted Merlin’s posture as he held the bow and arrow in hand. It was ready to fire and Arthur was more concerned than he was showing. This exercise was either going to end with an elbow to the gut or the king’s only son skewered alive by the bluntest arrow he had in his quiver.

“My fingers are starting to hurt,” whimpered the manservant, and it was true. His fingers were striped red where the taut bow string pressed deeply into his soft finger pads. For a servant, Arthur had expected Merlin’s hands to be more worn. Instead he found Merlin’s fingers and hands were fairly clean and without scabs or scars. Even Merlin’s wrists were perfect, the rounded bone beneath his smooth and even skin protruding delicately. They were thin as a maid’s and-

“Arthur!”

The notched arrow flew with amazing speed and very little accuracy. It struck a tree—which was better than one of their horses. Wincing, Merlin felt the need to stick his head in the ground and hide.

“Sorry….” he muttered, dashing ahead to pick up the arrow, but it was planted firmly into the trunk. Tugging with all his might, Merlin could not get the iron head to release. He glanced back to the prince, expecting a smart smack but instead he saw Arthur looking at him with another strange expression on his face. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

Clearing his throat, Arthur shook his head and tromped toward him. “Of course something’s wrong. You got an arrow stuck! We only have so many to last us there and back.”

“Well it was your idea to have me try this.” Merlin let his arms slacken as Arthur attempted to remove the arrow. “I told you I wasn’t any good.”

“Merlin, that was your fifth attempt. You’ve hardly given it a proper go. Just try again. There are some who take naturally to it. I’m sure there’s something you’re good at naturally,” Arthur grunted as he twisted the shaft and pulled. It was starting to give way. “Cleaning or being an idiot.”

“Oh ha ha,” the manservant grumped, stalking back to the firing line of their makeshift target range. He would get this, and he’d do it without magic.


	3. Chapter 3

  


Merlin noticed it first, pointing to the bushy plants by his horse’s hooves. “There. Look, Arthur.”

He dismounted, knelt and reached out with a bare hand. The leaves that had been oval in shape, green with red veins were now curled at the edges. The stalks in the distance had suffered the same, bent over from the weight of the ice. The climate was changing. They were definitely on the right track.

Without a word or a nod the prince directed his horse to continue. Merlin followed suit. As the day passed on the sky became overcast. The wizard started to feel the creeping chill through his thin clothing. His ears, knees, toes, and fingers were the first to feel the cold and try as he might to restrain, his body started to shudder.

Arthur didn’t fail to notice. His mind had been elsewhere for most of the climb but it wasn’t difficult to see that Merlin’s whole body was starting to shake.

“We should stop. Put on some more layers before we continue,” the prince stated matter-of-factly. Dismounting, he drew the horse to a small landing on one side of the path. Although the mountains were still a ways away, their road had a steady incline. Merlin thought it would probably drop down again soon, but Arthur was not so sure. He had never traveled this far, but he remembered some of his knights speak of caves dotting the hillside near the exit of the forest. It was a treacherous path but what choice did they have? Sighing, Arthur stretched a little before walking over to his manservant and gesturing for his bundle.

Merlin fumbled with the straps that attached Arthur’s bag to his. He handed over the prince’s bundle before struggling with his own pack. Arthur turned his back to Merlin, extracting the heavier winter garments and throwing them on over his tunic. Armour was important but he wouldn’t need that again until after they reached the cave exit.

As soon as his head poked through the final shirt Arthur made to hand the empty bag back to his servant. He turned around and found a half-naked Merlin fighting to put his arms through the correct sleeves of his shirt.

Arthur stared.

“What? This is an undershirt. It has to go _under_ the others,” Merlin explained, twisting the garment.

Merlin’s waist was tiny and the now exposed dark scab on his shoulder threw into relief his incredibly pale torso, which tapered gradually to hips defined under his scratchy looking wool trousers. Although there were none of the toned muscles Arthur was accustomed to seeing on his knights, there was a subtle line running down the center of Merlin’s abdomen, dividing the deep shadows that hinted at his pelvic bone.

Grunting in mild irritation, Merlin turned and shoved his head through the neckline of the shirt, finally pulling it down with satisfaction. He went to put on another when he noticed Arthur still looking at him. “What? Don’t tell me I’m doing it wrong because I’ve dressed you enough times to know how a shirt works.”

“No,” Arthur replied immediately, shaking his head.

“What then? You’re giving me that ‘Merlin, I’ve been thinking about some kind of plan and it’s probably not a good idea but I’m going to tell you and you’re going to help me with it’ look.”

Arthur swallowed, clearing his throat before nodding and shoving the empty pack toward Merlin once more, “You’re right. I’m sending you ahead to scout and I want you to climb that tree,” he gestured, “over there. Just climb up and tell me what you see.”

Merlin paused before giving him a look of defiance, “Don’t tell me we’re lost.”

“No. Just double checking—like a good prince should, right? Off you get.”

Rolling his eyes, Merlin donned the rest of his shirts hurriedly before dashing ahead to follow orders. Within minutes he was struggling to climb the tree Arthur had instructed him to. It wasn’t a good climbing tree and Merlin knew. He had spent a lot of his childhood climbing trees in Ealdor. This was no different. Frowning, the man considered what would be the worse: either he would get railed for not climbing the exact tree, or he would get punished for not relaying whatever observations he made. He chose the former and stepped another ten paces up the mountain road to a more appropriately sized tree. Hoisting himself up with the agility of a cat, Merlin found the view tainted by dense foliage. He brushed leaves aside and heard the clip clop below. Apparently Arthur had decided to join him.

“I think you just don’t wanna admit that we’re lost,” Merlin called down in a sing-song tone.

“Just tell me what you see,” came the voice from below. Merlin could tell Arthur was craning his neck up by the sound of his constrained response.

Merlin squinted. There was no way he could tell what was ahead without using magic. Everything was a blur of green and gray in the fading light. Closing his eyes, the wizard concentrated on the magic incantation he had memorized not a week ago.

Whispering under his breath, Merlin reached a hand forward in the direction he planned on extending his gaze, “ _Ic i áspréadeþá bescéawodnesse._ ”

His dark eyes burned gold and the magic flame circled in each iris as he gazed beyond the veil of the tree line ahead. He could make out the rocky outcrop of a cliff, the gushing of a waterfall, and a set of dark openings in its face. Stone shelves protruded and a plateau signaled some relief from the difficult incline. They would reach a minor summit soon if they continued on this way; however what was beyond remained impossible to see.

Merlin sighed as the magic he had funneled into the spell drained away and settled in its dormant state once more. He could feel it tingling in his arms as a heavy weight fell into his stomach. Taking a deep breath, Merlin opened his eyes. They were a deep gray-blue once more. He slid from the high branches and landed with a _fwump!_ on the ground beside his mount.

“Well?” Arthur asked from his saddle.

Merlin took a breath, “If we keep going this way we’ll reach the top of the hill. From there I think there’s probably a pass down the other side which will lead us to a waterfall. Around there I think there are some ledges or caves. It was hard to tell.”

Arthur scanned the area and nodded. “Let’s hope we can make it somewhere camp-worthy by nightfall, time to pick up the pace.”

\--

By the time they reached a place suitable enough to be a campground their breath had turned to white puffs of mist. Glad of the extra three layers, Merlin was still quick to start a fire. Before Arthur could deliver the order he had already begun stacking stones.

Halfway through his instruction Arthur saw the manservant bent over in his work.

Merlin grinned. “Yes?”

“Good,” stated the prince awkwardly. He went ahead to scout the area; if they were staying here overnight it was a good idea to check the surroundings. In the morning they would need to double their speed in order to reach the Druid artifact by the prescribed time.

Merlin watched Arthur’s stiff form fight up a short hill to a vantage point. The leather of the prince’s boots darkened as they became caked with mud. Trying to ignore the fact that he would have to clean them later, Merlin waited until he was certain the man was out of sight before whispering, “ _Bærne._ ”

He chucked some twigs and leaves onto the new fire before venturing a little ways to collect proper firewood. They would need a bundle to last the night, with the way the wind was blowing. It would need to be a strong flame. As he wandered, Merlin’s focus shifted to the larger task before them. They were two days away from their deadline. This Nectar Stone the Druids wanted so badly was somewhere in the mountains. The only thing the wizard could think was how horribly inconvenient of a place it was to leave something so important.

Merlin found the perfect opportunity to vent his frustration at having to travel clear across the country when he found a particularly large tree branch. Gazing up toward the dark sky, he could barely make out where it hung from the tree. The brunt of the meaty branch was lying at an awkward angle on the ground, halfway against the rotting trunk. Merlin was forced to put down the wood he had already attempted to gather in a pile by his feet before gripping the twisted branch and holding on as he kicked against the trunk with all his might. The toe of his soft leather boot made little progress and really it was more painful than it was probably worth, but it was distracting, he reasoned. Then he managed to get his foot stuck.

It was bad enough going all around Camelot holding Arthur’s weaponry and embarrassing himself by being so incredibly clumsy all the time. Now it was just the two of them and he was still fumbling about and getting his feet stuck in…nature. Of course it was the most opportune moment for a certain person to come along.

“Merlin, what ARE you doing?” Arthur stood with a crooked brow and puzzled frown. He tipped his head as if to try and view the situation from a better angle.

“Nothing. I was just…getting some more firewood and…here! Take these to the fire,” Merlin instructed, gesturing at the toppled pile of sticks and twigs lying beside his right foot.

Arthur restrained a grin, “You’re stuck aren’t you?”

“I’m not stuck.”

“Here. Let me help you.”

“No! I’m not stuck. It’s not a problem at all!”

“Shut up, Merlin,” Arthur stepped forward and purposefully wrapping his arms around the other man’s thin body from behind. His upper arms settled under Merlin’s armpits and his fingers laced together around Merlin’s stomach. Flushing so that his ears and neck began to burn, Merlin winced. He felt the prince’s forearms dig under his ribs as he pulled backwards.

Heaving as best he could without hurting his manservant, Arthur grunted in Merlin’s ear. He made little progress. “Twist your foot!”

“I’m trying!” Merlin cried, shoving his other foot onto the branch for leverage so that Arthur was holding his entire weight. It was a bad idea when the caught boot finally gave way. The two of them toppled backward over into the pile of branches. In a heap and slightly disoriented, Merlin lay atop Arthur for a moment staring up at the star-speckled sky.

“Get off of me!” Arthur shoved Merlin forward and clambered to his feet. He brushed himself off and tossed his head side to side. He was used to wrestling around with other men, grappling in fights with his knights, but this was completely different. For a moment Arthur almost admitted he had enjoyed the sensation of Merlin’s body nestled against his. Before he could linger on the idea further he blurted roughly, “Honestly, what would you do without me?”

Picking up the branches he had collected thus far, Merlin followed the prince as he stalked back to their campground. The sensation hadn’t escaped him either and feeling Arthur’s warm breath against his cheek had been enough to stir flutters in his stomach. Glad to have the flames cover his red face, Merlin fed the fire.

They sat and enjoyed the warmth, sharing some of the provisions. Merlin was glad to have the taste of bread in his mouth. He consumed it like a starving man, which was not entirely inaccurate seeing as they hadn’t stopped to eat all day. As soon as he finished, Merlin replaced the packaging paper neatly into the satchel and stared through the fire at the man sitting across from him. Arthur was clearly lost in thought.

“Arthur.”

He grunted.

“Why do you think this stone is in the middle of the mountains?” Arthur was risking an awful lot to come this far out for a bunch of magical folk his father was attempting to exterminate.

“I don’t know!” Lines of frustration and tiredness tugged at the corners of his eyes. “They’re Druids. They’re weird.”

“Gee thanks. That’s such a well-founded theory,” Merlin reclined on the bedroll and sighed as he stared toward the stars. The firelight made viewing all of them impossible but Merlin felt content being able to pick out pinpricks here and there while simultaneously feeling the warmth of the flames at his side.

“I’m sure there’s some mystical reason and I really don’t care,” grumbled Arthur. Merlin heard him bedding down as well. “Stop talking. I want to go to sleep.”

There was silence as the prince shifted around in his blankets, finding the best position. Merlin continued to gaze at the sky. He heard his companion sigh, finally allowing his bones to rest.

In the softest voice he could muster, Merlin exhaled, “Goodnight, Arthur.”


	4. Chapter 4

  


“No way.”

“Merlin…”

“I’m not doing it.”

“We have to.”

Merlin shot Arthur a half-sneer. “Why does it always have to be caves?”

“It’s not like I plan these things,” Arthur replied with an equally sharp tone. In a mocking voice he continued, “OH, _Mer_ lin’s coming along on this quest, guess I’ll make sure to purposefully take a route through dangerous forests and damp caves because of course their smells, creatures, and tendency to make _my_ life miserable is entirely not a factor.”

“Wouldn’t put it past you.”

Thwapping Merlin upside his dark head, Arthur gave him a glare before taking the lead and choosing the closest cave opening. These were natural caves and they weren’t anywhere near Camelot, so he didn’t expect to find torches hung along the walls. Squinting into the darkness, the prince tried to discern any immediate dangers. He knew that it was pointless, but he was too tired to care. He attempted to coax his horse to follow. It wasn’t keen to do so. Taking a deep breath, Arthur turned around to find his manservant throwing their combined traveling pack over one shoulder while watching a flaming torch made of wood and cloth in his opposite hand.

“You made that?” Arthur blurted. Disbelief scrunched the bridge of his nose.

“Well where do you expect me to find a torch around here? Of course I made it. It’s not like Camelot,” Merlin retorted. He hitched the bag higher on his shoulder and nodded toward their steeds. “I think we’ll have to leave the horses here unfortunately.”

“Yes, thank you. I figured that one out. I have been doing this longer than you,” snapped Arthur, making to snatch the torch from his companion who pivoted away.

Swallowing the ‘what, being a prat?’ comeback, Merlin shook his head. “Oh no. I get the fire. You have a sword.”

“Fine, then _you_ get to go ahead and face whatever comes first,” Arthur grinned, shoving his friend forward. “Go on then.”

Merlin muttered something under his breath before taking the first steps into the cave. The wind howled. Then there was silence.

 --

There was no way out and no way of knowing which way they had come. The two were lost deep within the cliff face. Worst of all, it was becoming increasingly difficult to use magic. Merlin swallowed uncomfortably as they pressed on, hoping they wouldn’t run across strange creatures. Who knew how many days it would take to break the surface again or where they would be let out? For all he knew, the two could wander forever in the natural maze only to find themselves back where they started.

“Calm down,” Arthur instructed, turning to look at his companion. Although Merlin hadn’t realized it himself, his ragged breathing and furtive glances alerted Arthur that the situation shot his servant’s nerves through the ceiling.

“Sure. Calm. Totally. Completely. Yes. Me.”

Stopping, Arthur placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder and drew him closer. “Merlin. It’s alright. Breathe.” With a jaunty smile he added, “You’re with me. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Huh.” Merlin felt heat run to his cheeks and ears. A tingle of magic threatened to escape from his fingertips. Even in the wavering firelight, Arthur’s grin exuded confidence. It always had a profound effect on Merlin. He stated, “Based on previous experience, everything.”

And of course it did.

 --

As they crept through the labyrinth of tunnels, Merlin felt the cold gradually increase. He was grateful of the heavy bag on his back, which provided an additional barrier.

They moved deeper and deeper into the recess of darkness, clawing through fallen rock formations and staring in awe as they passed crystallized mineral deposits. Merlin’s torch burned lower, becoming weaker without magic to help it. Dodging stalagmites and brushing aside low-hanging roots which had pierced the soil above, the pair lost track of time.

“Wait, do you hear that?” Arthur threw out an arm halting Merlin in his tracks. The two immediately ducked their heads in the darkness, squinting to see. They stood in silence for a moment, their breath collecting ahead in a puff of white smoke. The torch flickered in the dark.

“What do you think it is?” Merlin whispered. He couldn’t hear anything save for the sound of dripping water so he trusted the hunter’s ears.

“Could be nothing,” replied the prince in a falsely optimistic voice. The statement was immediately countermanded with a deep growl from below and rumbling beneath their feet. The pair stared down before looking up to meet one another’s eyes. A second later the earth swallowed them whole.

The torch fell, a matchstick extinguished in the well of darkness. It failed to illuminate the creature that erupted from beneath them. Its silhouette suggested it was too large to live within such tight caves. Their bodies were pulled down the black shaft its movement created. Merlin covered his face with his forearms as rock, plant-matter, and other debris ricocheted off the body of the beast and pelted him. He couldn’t get a good look at the creature and instead, grasped blindly for anything that might keep him from falling further. His hand found the hem of Arthur’s tunic.

Grabbing hold of the material with his sweat-slickened fingers, Merlin fought to slow his progress down the freshly made tunnel.

With a practiced hand Arthur removed his dagger and plunged it into the earth in an attempt to break their fall. They slid several feet before abruptly stopping. Merlin shut his eyes to avoid the crumbling dirt.

“Merlin!” Arthur yelled down, feeling the weight of the skinny servant barely clinging on. “You okay?”

“I told you. I hate caves.” Before their conversation could continue Merlin heard the snuffling of the beast above them. “Correction, I hate everything related to caves _ever_.”

“Not helpful,” the prince hissed as he reached down and offered a forearm. “Grab on before you fall.”

Merlin threw his hand to the man and with a grunt Arthur hauled them both out of the hole before the beast descended upon them. A glint of metal rang out and the prince’s trusty steel defended against the lunging animal. The two stared in shock, finally seeing the full body of the beast illuminated by glowing flowers and crystals clinging to the cave walls. It was the largest badger they had ever seen and Merlin’s eyes widened even further to take in the giant claws, sharp claws: big sharp death-making claws of doom.

With a growl, the badger took another swing, knocking Merlin back and showering him with a fleet of razor sharp icicles. This creature was definitely one of magic. Before he could duck or stand, the wizard saw a blur of red and silver shielding his fallen form and deflecting the onslaught of freezing projectiles. Luckily Merlin’s knapsack cushioned his landing but the sound that followed was a horrible scraping, deafening, ringing in their ears. Arthur had stepped in front of him and brought his sword to a guard position. The clang of Arthur's sword made Merlin’s head spin as the badger’s claws grappled with Arthur’s blocks and parries.

Finally, the prince managed to land a strike through the creature’s thick pelt. The ice wielding badger was not pleased. Arthur was subsequently thrown fifteen feet to the left of Merlin. At that moment, the wizard took his chance.

“ _Ic bebíede fealle!_ ” Merlin whispered with his gaze to the high ceiling. He locked eyes with the animal for a split second and was sure it had felt the surge of magic. At first, the spell seemed to have no effect, but it wasn’t the creature Merlin was aiming for. A moment later, the wizard looked up to see the large stalactites breaking off and falling down, gaining speed and hurtling toward the back of the beast. He called out to Arthur, who noticed this shower and rolled out of the way. The giant badger roared as the sharp formations dug into its striped back and tail, striking with such force that it fell to its stomach. It was knocked down but not out.

The prince took a stance ready for more action but the raging animal just stood slowly, shaking the debris off. It seemed to determine that this prey was not worth its time. Frankly a giant cobra was probably easier to kill and would provide a tastier meal than these two runts, especially the one wielding the sharp stick.

Hissing in retreat, the badger’s tail destroyed one of the tunnel branches as it stormed away. The earth quaked around them and Merlin instinctively took hold of Arthur’s shoulder. The two dodged backwards in unison as rocks slid, sealing up the beast’s exit.

Merlin shook from the adrenaline and the backlash of magic like boiling water scalding his arms and legs. Gripping Arthur’s shoulders for support, he sunk his forehead to the man’s exposed collarbone and laughed in the dim glow, the sound echoing brilliantly in the high cave. Merlin felt Arthur clap a leather gloved hand on his back and knew the prince was shaking from the excitement too.

“See,” Arthur exhaled roughly into Merlin’s ear, “Nothing to it.”

Merlin nodded before looking up with a silly grin on his face to find Arthur beaming back at him. For a moment the two gazed at one another in shocked admiration before their smiles slowly disappeared. Merlin witnessed a thought cross Arthur’s mind. He saw it pass over his eyes and a thudding in Merlin’s chest warned his body of the oncoming surge of emotions.

“We’d better get going,” he sputtered, looking down for a minute before turning his face toward the narrow passage ahead even as Arthur leaned toward him. Merlin felt chapped lips graze his jaw line and he stood, frozen for a moment before looking back at the blonde. “Arthur…what are y-”

The words were cut short. Arthur’s cold lips planted themselves firmly against his, engulfing them completely in one swoop. Merlin felt himself pushed backward toward the wall of the tunnel and winced as his hair touched the splintered icicles dripping down, and he felt something in his backpack dig into his spine. A hand rose and settled to grip the back of his neck in order to keep his head fixed in place. Another hand roughly pulled his lower body against Arthur’s more sculpted form.

Ten seconds of fervent kissing from both parties and Merlin pushed away, staring at Arthur—mouth agape. His lean arms kept the knight at bay, though they did so without much conviction.

Words refused to come from Arthur Pendragon’s mouth. He stood there, a wash of confusion tumbling down his neck and burning to his chest. The other man’s arms dropped to his sides. There was no shouting, no confessions, Merlin simply cleared his throat and nodded very wide-eyed. He turned to head down the tunnel.

Arthur followed in silence for a scant second before his pride exclaimed, “We’re not even going to talk about this?”

“Nope. Let’s go,” Merlin responded over his shoulder. Arthur could hear the delight in his voice.


	5. Chapter 5

  


After the badger encounter Arthur decided it was time to suit up. Merlin agreed entirely and silently, helping the Crown Prince into his chainmail and gauntlets. It was the easiest way to get out of conversation and to do something…normal.

As soon as the job was complete, Merlin gave the knight a once over and nodded proudly. He thought he could probably do this in his sleep now—with magic of course.

They pressed on, following the luminescent flora down the narrow tunnel.

“Where are we?” Merlin chattered, rubbing his arms and not at all concerned with sounding like a complete coward as the cold shook his voice senseless. “We should be past the forest by now, shouldn’t we?”

“It certainly is cold enough to be the mountain. Perhaps we passed underground rather than over,” Arthur reasoned. Either way, remaining in one place for longer than ten minutes would probably paralyze them.

The two progressed cautiously until the tunnel funneled out into a high-walled cavern. They arrived on a ledge only a few feet above what appeared at first to be a large flat clearing. Merlin skirted along until he reached the bank and dropped his pack on the ground. The mirrored lake was aberrant and far from tranquil. Bubbling and jetting toward the center forced strange waves across its surface, disturbing the serene edges. Something hanging in the air above illuminated the room. Merlin didn’t like it one bit but Arthur was determined to explore.

Unnaturally green. That was what Merlin thought as he stared into the darkness. Beyond the stalactites obscuring his view the only light throbbed. Whatever it was, it was most definitely magical. The whole suspended in mid-air thing was also a big clue. A movement in Merlin’s peripheral vision caught his attention and he turned to look at Arthur gesticulating forcefully.

“You do this all the time and I tell you every time I don’t understand what you’re saying!” Merlin hissed in a whisper, afraid of attracting anything else. His voice, even at a soft level, ricocheted and became magnified.

Rolling his eyes, Arthur stalked a few paces back toward his manservant and responded in an equally hushed tone, “It means I’m going to go up this way”—he thrust his right hand toward a ledge rising up to meet the strange glow—“and you go that way”—he gestured with his left index finger further along the path they were on to where it widened ahead.

Merlin was going to protest splitting up but the prince was already leaving.

Muttering under his breath, the wizard started the trek up the natural walkway. He kept an eye on Arthur as he progressed, though there were certain areas in which the view across the large body of water was completely masked by rock formations.

When he reached the highest point possible, Merlin took a slow deep breath.  The sharp cold seemed to provide less oxygen, piercing his throat. He wheezed a little and searched for Arthur’s silver body. The two were now quite far apart. The prince had somehow managed to find himself at the top of a small mountain. Merlin was at least fifteen feet below him standing at the tip of an adjacent ledge. It would have been impossible from that point to climb up to where Arthur was, so he held his position, watching as Arthur steadied his stance in preparation to reach for the light. Although Merlin thought he was a complete buffoon for attempting to catch the magic green glow, he could never deny the man’s courage.

“Arthur!” he called, running a hand through his hair. “Arthur! What do you want me to do?”

“Shut _up_!” echoed the response. Merlin watched as Camelot’s greatest knight stepped forward toward the light.

\--

He heard it. A voice which sounded neither wholly man nor woman.

_Arthur Pendragon,_ it sighed, _I see your destiny and it is great indeed._

The Crown Prince’s eyes widened, ensnared by the supernatural glow from above him. It was so close. Close enough to reach out and touch. He lifted a metal-clad hand to the light, extending his stance as far as possible, casting himself dangerously near the edge.

_Would you not like to see? Would you not like to feel it? The power to give. The power to take. Life and death. Would you wield it, Arthur Pendragon?_

Arthur’s throat was dry, he was hungry, his eyes tired, his limbs fatigued. The freezing air severed any attempt at speech and rooted his body, but he fought.

Yes. He wanted it. Yes! He needed it! He moved closer to touch the warmth which seemed to hear his unvoiced desire and descended to greet him. Then at the last moment the unearthly spark turned to a fiery ball and sped through Arthur’s chest. The magic blossomed where it impacted, petals of green and streams of yellow exploding against the crest on his tunic before it exited through his back just as quickly, dispersing into pale smoke. In one passing moment his eyes blazed and he saw clearly the colour of the world.

Deep in the water below, he saw a throbbing bottle green glow: a tentacled beast resting at its center. Arthur turned his gaze upward and saw the dull beat of what he knew, somehow, were the dying trees above them on the roof of the cavern, barely breathing a deep gray. He saw creatures flutter in the depths of the cave, pink pinpricks in the darkness and then he turned down to see a wave of colour that nearly overpowered his mind. Resonating an array of scarlet, amber, gold, indigo and violet was Merlin. From his body rose spindles of ever-moving coloured light, dancing in some non-existent breeze and perpetually circling around him.

He saw Merlin’s mouth move, his face transformed by the worry etched there, but Arthur heard only a rush of wind in his ears.

The bewitched prince slowly tumbled sideways.

\--

The water was so cold Arthur barely felt anything before his body burned away to numbness. A churning deep within the black lake dared to drag him under, piercing his armour and invading his mind. He heard a scream and wanted to believe it was his name before his head submerged completely. His arms, weighted by cold, armour, and soaked layers of tunic, were useless.

Suddenly there was silence with only a dull drum beat that seemed to pound further and further away. The rushing of the wind and splash of his impact were gone. His tired eyes closed, allowing the darkness to take him. Although his body convulsed, Arthur felt no pain. Icy water filled his lungs and he struggled only a moment before sensation was gone. Somewhere far away, he felt a slight wave in the current as something heavy dropped into the lake.

\--

“Arthur!” Merlin screamed as he watched his friend fall into the water below. He waited a moment to see him emerge but the prince’s blonde head never touched the surface again. Without hesitation, Merlin took a deep breath and jumped off the ledge.

His body jolted involuntarily as the icy waves instantly pierced the layers of his clothing. He swam through the dark, trying to feel for Arthur, fighting to find him. A strong current tore at his feet and concentrating, Merlin found the warmth of his magic; it started in the pit of his stomach, then flamed up his spine. His eyes opened golden to see in his hand, a glowing light which illuminated the rush of bubbles and the old lake plants. Praying that the light would not attract the large angry creature he suspected lived in the lake, Merlin swam with renewed vigor. He wrestled with the churning waves and allowed the clear white glow to lead his way.

With his lungs burning for air and feeling like a century had passed, Merlin caught the glint of chainmail like luminescent fish scales. Reaching with his bare hands, he scraped for an arm and caught Arthur just before another undercurrent stole him away.

Breaching the surface of the water, gasping and choking, Merlin forced his legs to kick toward the edge. When he finally reached it, the man commanded his feet to walk and ignored the numbness in his toes.

“D-don’t-t-t…y-you d-d-dare…d-die on m-m-me,” Merlin chattered, using what little strength he had left in his weak arms to drag Arthur from the water a safe distance away. The man was twenty times heavier than normal and Merlin’s drenched legs danced against the muddy banks. His leather boots slid until they found traction on the few rocks which scattered the bank. Without care, Merlin dropped his charge onto the hard ground and shook his shoulders violently. “A-A-A-Arth-th-th-thur!”

When the prince failed to respond Merlin did the only thing he could think to do next. A wave of fire rose from his ankles to his fingertips as he allowed the frost-bitten digits to hover over Arthur’s chainmail chest. Closing his eyes, Merlin concentrated on imagining a pond. As he slid his hand in a horizontal motion he created waves across the water and slowly pushed the liquid through a narrow channel. He continued the motion, gently coaxing the water with his mind as his numb hand moved. When he opened his gold-rimmed eyes, streams of water were leaving Arthur’s mouth and splashing to the muddy ground beside his head. Merlin fought to stay awake; the magic kept him going, demanding his complete focus. When the final bit of water had left Arthur’s lungs, the prince’s body shook. An ethereal glow traced his neck down to his stomach and as Merlin watched in amazement, a silver chain with a fiery stone medallion appeared. It seemed alive for a moment, shining brightly in the darkness, but slowly died away to a beautiful amber. A rattling breath severed by a choke and then a violent cough erupted from Arthur’s blue lips but he did not wake. He was, however, breathing shallowly, and that was a start.

Looking around, Merlin found the traveling pack he had dumped earlier within arm’s reach and threw it over his shoulders.

There was no way he was going to be able to move Arthur any further without magic. He was too weak and the man unbearably heavy. If he didn’t move him, Merlin was convinced he would fall asleep next to Arthur and the two would never wake again. He needed to be strong for Arthur. It was his duty to protect him.  

“ _Astyre,_ ” Merlin shuddered, lifting the stiff hand. Struggling to rise, he fought for a time before his legs became unstuck. Merlin ignored the threat of his knees crumpling beneath him and started the climb with Arthur floating by his side toward the entrance of the cave.

\--

The magic singed his nerve endings. He was pushing his body too far and he knew it, but there was no other option. He had to keep Arthur alive. With the last of his strength, Merlin managed to navigate the winding tunnels toward what he hoped was the cavern’s entrance. Although he failed to find the mouth of the cave, he did come upon a drier patch of relatively even ground.

Kneeling carefully, his stiff legs protesting every second, Merlin winced and guided Arthur’s body to the ground. When he was hovering only an inch above the dirt, the wizard whispered, “ _Alíese_.”

Arthur’s body settled slowly with the release spell and Merlin sat back on his ankles. He shrugged the heavy pack off and set to work removing all the blankets and digging for anything left they could possibly burn. He managed to locate some old muslin and paper they had used to wrap provisions as well as the handkerchiefs with which Gaius had wrapped a collection of potions. He laid the materials in a pile and concentrated with his last ounce of magic. “ _Forbærnan_.”

It wasn’t much, but it would have to do for now. Wet clothes would only make them sick. With a handful of Gaius’ remedies they wouldn’t last very long on their own. Swallowing his embarrassment, Merlin pivoted on his knees to face Arthur and began removing his armour and tunics, though Merlin dared not touch the necklace. When the deed was done, he threw the blankets over Arthur’s body and worked his nearly frost-bitten fingers on his own clothing. He laid out the articles as best as he could by the measly camp light before collapsing beside the other man.

With four layers of wool blankets on top of them and the best fire Merlin could muster, he slept.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur was suddenly very aware of his surroundings, especially by the warm body pressed against his. Blinking tentatively into sunlight, he searched for verification. Under his arm, which had draped itself across a very visible ribcage, Merlin faced him. His dark eyelashes drew away all the tension that typically creased his brow and temples during his waking hours and the morning glow filtering from holes in the ceiling above them cast slight shadows beneath his high cheekbones. With his mouth partially open, Arthur watched Merlin’s even breathing.

The pounding in his chest and ears was so loud he thought Merlin would wake up. It was a completely irrational thought, but the daydream that followed forced Arthur to pull away, remove his arm and replace it with a corner of the blanket that had fallen off his bare shoulder. It was then that Arthur realized he was completely naked. Blood rushed to his face and he stood abruptly, lunging for what clothes he could find by the fire, which curiously glowed as brightly as if it had just been lit. Arthur ignored this fact and dressed, pulling on the damp articles within seconds. His limbs were incredibly stiff, but obeyed his commands.

As soon as he was fully clothed, he breathed a sigh of relief and took a moment to take in the sight before him. Merlin was still sleeping, curled up with the blankets over his shoulder so that only his long neck and slack face were exposed. Uther would kill them both for such behaviour. Wouldn’t he? It wasn’t the first time they had slept rough side by side, though that had been in Ealdor the night before their fight to defend Merlin’s village. Merlin was his trusted servant and hadn’t screwed up this completely before so there had to be some reason they had slept completely naked next to one another in a cave. Arthur couldn’t recall past yelling at Merlin to shut up as he reached for that damn stone.

Whatever this was, it certainly would be embarrassing for anybody to know about it. Merlin naked. Arthur naked. Still, it was difficult to swallow the feelings that had simmered in his stomach for days now. He had kissed Merlin after all, brief as it had been.

Arthur thought of seeing Merlin as he had several weeks ago, scrubbing a line of boots on the floor of his room with such fervor and dedication he had actually looked like a decent servant. It hadn’t been the cleaning that had surprised him but the face which greeted him as he entered his bedroom, expression painted with deepest sorrow. It had made Arthur’s heart stop, though he hadn’t failed to play the situation off.

He had greeted his manservant with a convincing tone of surprise, having found him at last.

Merlin had rambled off his list of daily chores in a hollow voice before returning to his polishing.

Arthur wasn’t an idiot. Merlin never spoke to him without an edge. His face said it all. Merlin was a terrible liar and was so upset that he hadn’t even bothered trying to conceal his feelings.

Arthur sat down beside his friend, studying what he could see of him. Merlin’s head was ducked as he scrubbed away. Shifting his mouth back and forth, Arthur began, “Something’s been upsetting you, hasn’t it?”

It was grief which ran deeper than Arthur realized.

“Maybe.”

Another pause, so Arthur did what he did best. Instead of asking, he joked and teased.

“Was it when I threw water over you?” Arthur asked, knowing full well it wasn’t, but he needed to see Merlin happy. He needed to know Merlin was going to be fine.

A small reluctant smile broke the heavy lines on Merlin’s young face. He took a moment to swallow the joke before replying in a rising voice, “Wasn’t very nice.”

“It was a bit unfair…Like when you called me FAT.”

“Why was that unfair?” Merlin looked up with a completely serious face, as if he couldn’t comprehend why Arthur thought it was an absurd idea.

“Because I am not f-” Arthur retorted. He rolled his head toward Merlin until the words registered. A genuine smile washed over Merlin’s face. Having been properly tricked, Arthur tried to work out another quip. When that failed, he pursed his lips, shook his head like a sore loser and locked Merlin under his arm for a hard noogie. Rolling his knuckles through the man’s hair, Arthur taunted, “Still think I need to get in shape?”

Merlin’s protests punctured the air, deflating the tension.

Arthur released him, grinning like an idiot. He tried to work out how to ask who or what had really caused Merlin’s distress. He gave up. “That’s better.”

“Thanks,” Merlin replied, nursing his abused head, but Arthur’s smile was catching and Merlin beamed back.

“You alright though?” Arthur asked and Merlin had given him an almost invisible nod as he shifted. Given Merlin’s final say on the topic, Arthur had continued, “You need to polish my armour, wash my clothes, and clean my room.”

He couldn’t buy Merlin a drink (Princes can’t be seen buying their servants drinks!) or go hunting with him (Merlin with a long spear? Honestly?) as a distraction, so Arthur had given him work to do because he knew keeping busy through grief helped. He hadn’t care that Merlin saw through his scheme and even ignored Merlin’s thankful smile.

When Arthur had settled beside Merlin on the floor that day and noogied the crap out of him he had made a silent vow to make every day better than the last. He never wanted to see his friend in such a mournful state again. Merlin’s optimism and quirky personality kept him amused even on the worst days and making Merlin laugh was rewarding. He counted it as a particularly high achievement to have done so when Merlin had been so indescribably depressed. Arthur loved making Merlin smile. He wanted to do it every day for the rest of their lives.

He knew Merlin’s upbringing hadn’t been easy and he hadn’t exactly made it pleasant for him in Camelot either. Merlin deserved better. As difficult as it was to admit sometimes, Arthur believed Merlin consistently knew how he was feeling. When he got frustrated with Morgana or shut down by Uther, Merlin tried so God damn hard to fix it, even when he didn’t know how. He had even come out on this absurd quest without question.

Arthur hesitated, now looking down at the man who had within two days of their first meeting transformed from a peasant play-thing to that git who works for Gaius to Arthur’s entirely reluctant and totally indispensible manservant. And yes. Arthur did feel strongly for Merlin, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be love. He wouldn’t even think of that word.

Still, part of Arthur desired to rescind his actions and climb back beneath the blankets for a while longer. But then Merlin stirred, smacking his lips and grumbling, and Arthur’s previously cultivated resolve stood its ground.

“You’d better have a good explanation for this, Merlin!” Arthur blurted before his mind conjured any more creative suggestions and he decided to ask a very different set of questions.

Merlin started, blinked blearily and instantly began yelping, “Arthur! What time ‘s it?”

Arthur stood doused in spots of sun, arms folded across his chest with a mask of seriousness on his face while he waited for the other man to become aware of his surroundings. Merlin looked drained but better than he probably had the night before. The prince tried hard not to let his gaze fall down Merlin’s pale torso to where the blankets pooled at the slight curve of his lower abdomen and waist.

“Oh god. Oh no. This isn’t what it looks like,” Merlin blathered, going completely red in the face. He scrambled to his feet, which only made the situation worse when he became horribly unbalanced. Arthur had to hold in his laughter as the clumsy servant grappled with the blankets. “You fell in the lake and I had to get you out and then it was so cold so I didn’t think—and we would’ve gotten sick, so I got us out and then I-“

“Alright. Alright!” Arthur cut across Merlin’s babble. “But never _ever_ tell anyone about this. The knights would never let me live it down…”

“Your knights probably would’ve done the same to save your-” Merlin received a severe look from the Crown Prince and nodded, “Right. Shutting up.”

“I’m going to go look about a bit so don’t go anywhere,” Arthur explained, bending over to pick up his sword which he secured at his belt. He peered up at Merlin who was wrangling his clothing on and smiled. Heading toward the tunnel, he started into the half dark but paused, pivoting his head sideways. “Hey, Merlin.”

“Hmm?” Merlin asked, looking up and catching shadows that defined Arthur’s jaw line as he looked over his shoulder.

“Thanks,” Arthur grinned tellingly as he disappeared into the dark.

\--

“So this is what the Druids want?” Arthur asked, lifting the jeweled necklace to see the light catch the hammered silver and marbled center. They had found their way toward a sunnier patch of the caves after Arthur had returned from his scouting. Eyes trained on the object, sarcasm laced his voice, “This _mysterious_ Nectar Stone.”

“Looks like it,” Merlin replied, licking his lips nervously. Arthur had to know it was an item of magic but what its function was, even Merlin couldn’t say. “What do you think it does?”

Arthur paused thoughtfully with the stone at eye-level, letting the pendant swivel at the end of its chain. He squinted to see tiny words chiseled into the design. “There’s an inscription but it’s too small to read.”

“Too bad we don’t have Gaius’ magnification glass,” Merlin snorted, crossing his arms. Of all the things he hadn’t packed…but Arthur wasn’t paying attention. He was staring at the necklace. Time seemed to slow as the sunlight spun honey strands of energy around the stone. Arthur’s eyes widened, watching as the same mosaic of colours sprouted around Merlin. It was as if they had always been there, he had just been blind to them. He stared beyond him, seeing the walls of the cave which pulsed a dim chestnut. Peculiar. His eyes returned to looking at Merlin through the stone’s center.

_Arthur Pendragon,_ a whisper echoed in his mind.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked after half a minute of utter silence, worry heavy in his tone.

Arthur blinked, lowering the necklace and as he did the light around Merlin faded. He saw his manservant standing—he was his usual awkwardly long self in ratty servant’s garb and that soiled red neckerchief under his chin.

“Tell me what you see, Merlin.”

“Sorry?”

Arthur motioned for the other man to extend his hand and hastily gave over the pendant. “Look through it and tell me what you see.”

“Alright,” Merlin replied uneasily. He mirrored Arthur’s movements, raising the necklace to eye-level. A jolt of something hot, a shocking burning snap travelled up Merlin’s arm to his neck. A pinching sensation forced his face to nearly collapse in on itself so that all his features were drawn toward the tip of his nose. His eyebrows furrowed, his lips puckered and his nostrils flared. A crease across the bridge of his nose and his slotted eyes finalized the picture of a man who had either smelled something quite foul or consumed something of the same.

“What is it?” Arthur demanded, eyeing his companion with suspicion.

This was wild magic. This was living. This was real. He had felt it instinctively. The energy was barely channeled into the instrument he was holding. But how to explain to Arthur what he had experienced.

“Sorry,” the servant stuttered, “The metal was just really cold.”

Frowning, Arthur crossed him arms. Merlin was wasting his time. “Look again.”

When Merlin peered through the stone he was delighted to see the streams of colour. His magic had enhanced the view so that he could clearly see objects beyond the physical parameters that restricted Arthur’s vision. Merlin peered through the cave walls to see the tunnels beyond where more burrowing beasts lurked glowing cool blue. The earth above them held a variety of glowing specks of every size and colour, beetles laced with small magic.

Then he turned to face the prince and gasped. Single beams of scarlet, gold, and cerulean seemed to wrap themselves around Arthur’s limbs, starting at his ankles and circling loosely around his middle until they faded away around his arms. They spun with a lazy pace around him.

“Well?”

Merlin had no idea what Arthur had witnessed but he knew that this necklace must illuminate wild magic, Druid magic, the energy of the earth. Arthur had been born unnaturally of magic. That much the two had learned from Morgause. That must be why the prince had it too, but how to tell him? And if it truly was wild magic then that meant Arthur had seen it in Merlin! The man looked down, but at his own hands he could see nothing. Perhaps the stone didn’t work that way. You could not see yourself. Well he had to figure out something.

“Merlin, are you even listening? Answer me!”

The wizard stumbled to find words. He offered the necklace back to Arthur who snatched it immediately but continued to stare at his manservant.

“ _Well_?” Arthur asked once more.

“Colours. Lots of them! All over. Kinda moving.”

When Arthur didn’t respond, Merlin continued with his half-lie, “There were some everywhere. Lots of it. You had them too. Covered with all kinds of coloured light! Hey maybe this shows living things.”

Arthur frowned, but nodded after a time. He could agree with Merlin’s theory. Looping the necklace around his leather belt, the prince seemed to permit his thoughts to rest on other subjects.

“Maybe. Either way our journey is only half complete. We need to get to the Druids.” 

\--

It took the pair barely a minute to pack everything they had. They had run out of provisions, had only the clothes on their back, the blankets and Arthur’s sword. Leaving the caves was the priority and now that Merlin had Camelot’s best hunter up and running he felt a lot better. Arthur’s sense of direction was better than his by a day and a mile.

“What do you suppose the King will say about our absence?” Merlin asked cautiously as he ducked beneath plant matter. They were definitely moving toward an exit because he could feel the wind on his face.

“I suspect you’ll find out when you tell him why we were gone for so long,” Arthur replied, pretending to be interested in an upcoming bend in the tunnel.

“What? _Me_? Why am I always the one covering for you? You can’t’ve missed _that_ many appointments with him because I failed to tell him and by the way I’m here _with_ you, so you know Gaius is probably the one worried out of his mind and trying to calm your father down, who’s probably also sent out search parties to look for us and when they-”

“Oh calm down, Merlin! I’m only joking…I’ll just tell him I got lost while hunting.”

The wizard paused, tipping his head a little to the side before giving Arthur a dubious look. “Won’t that be embarrassing?”

Arthur stopped walking and closed his eyes for a moment to just take in a deep breath. In a controlled voice he replied, “Why yes, Merlin. It will be quite embarrassing but let’s think. The alternative is that I tell him we went on a quest for a _Druid_ , found a _magical_ object, and nearly got killed in the process.”

He spun to face his companion. “So if _you_ want to see the light of day ever again, because he will blame both of us, and punish both of us for undertaking this inane quest, you’ll be the quiet servant I know you can be” –he paused to give Merlin a look– “and let me take the fall for this one.”

Merlin opened his mouth to protest because a Prince’s honour was worth more than a servant’s, but Arthur lifted a finger nearly to Merlin’s lips to silence him. It was his father’s court and it was his place, not his servant’s to be responsible. With determination in his eyes, the knight cocked an eyebrow before whispering, “Not a word.”

Swallowing, Merlin nodded enthusiastically until it appeared his head might roll off and Arthur gave him a short smile which was returned instantly.

\--

Unfortunately, the light air between them didn’t last long. As soon as the two managed to find the mouth of the cave, they realized with growing anxiety, that they had discovered the _other_ side of the mountain in the snow, with more snow coming and a cheek-slicing wind.

“YOU HAVE GOT TO BE JOKING!” Merlin shouted over the howling wind. They trudged through the snow-storm in ill-suited winter gear. Their boots had not been treated with the correct oils for this weather and their feet were already numb, stumps being directed not by legs, but hips.

“OH SHUT UP. LIKE YOU KNEW WHERE WE WERE GOING,” Arthur screamed back. “YOU HAVE THE DIRECTIONAL PROWESS OF A BLIND DOG!”

“AT LEAST I DON’T PRETEND TO KNOW WHERE I’M GOING,” the servant called, bringing his forearm up to shield his eyes. As he did so, he lost his footing and felt his body fall into the blanket of white. It took Arthur five seconds to realize his friend was down. He turned around and blindly searched for Merlin until he found the blue and red lump.

“GIVE ME YOUR HAND!”

Merlin swung the frozen limb up and glued it to Arthur’s.

\--

They had managed to find another cave opening and ducked inside immediately to escape the ferocious wind. Faces bright red and chapped, both had struggled to breathe as they edged inside to safety.

Although Merlin and Arthur were in relatively good health (minus being frozen to the bone) there was no way Merlin could use his magic in front of Arthur to dry their clothes and produce an ever-burning fire. How typical. Sinking to his knees and depositing what little was left of their packs, Merlin sighed and started to remove his snow-caked tunics.

“Alright. You get nice and comfortable there. I’ll just make a fire then,” Arthur griped sarcastically, digging around for flint. There was barely any dry burning material. If they even made a flame it would probably last less than an hour. When Arthur heard no response from his servant, he turned to look at the dark form shivering against the curving wall of the cave. His gaze softened and he said quietly, “Sorry, Merlin. I’m just…”

“Cold, wet, and hungry? Yeah, same,” the other’s thin voice came from the darkness.

Biting his tongue, Arthur concentrated on the task at hand and forced himself to avoid thinking of his own drenched form. As he worked he felt Merlin’s presence shifting, removing articles from their satchels and setting what he assumed to be the bedding down on the driest, smoothest patch of ground.

When the prince finally managed to get the fire going, he looked up to see Merlin half-naked laying his clothes on the ground. Merlin turned, the poorly burning flames casting shadows across his face. For a moment, Arthur thought he saw the meager flame dance in Merlin’s gray eyes but it was gone a second later—replaced by a stronger glow. He assumed the flames had finally caught something to burn. Before he could inspect more closely, Merlin remarked, “Here. Let me help you.”

He crossed the dank space to help remove Arthur’s armour. Although his fingers were numbed nearly to rock, Merlin didn’t complain as he worked, untying the knots that had iced in the weather. He worked for a long time just undoing the knots before sliding the wet metal down the prince’s arms and over his head. The chainmail, once lifted off of him was such a relief, though it left a harsh pang of cold. Arthur sighed, rolling his head back and started when he felt the back of his head touch Merlin’s forehead.

“Sorry I’m slow,” the servant muttered as he worked on the tunics. Arthur felt and saw Merlin’s cold misty breath over his shoulder and fought the urge to turn around or to grab the lithe fingers that ran over his shoulders as they worked.

“It’s fine,” he whispered instead, seeing his own breath. He wasn’t about to tell Merlin that taking off clothes was something he did know how to do. He was much too tired to come up with a witty retort. As soon as his servant managed to undo the straps, Arthur felt the burden lift. Although removing the tunics was fairly easy considering they were less than half the weight of the armour, it seemed Arthur had still managed to get himself tangled. It took all four of their hands, a few elbows, and some shoulder shrugging to finally extract his body from the mass of fabric. Nodding in thanks, Arthur stepped away in order to remove his own wet bottoms as Merlin set about laying the tops down by the fire to dry. They probably wouldn’t but it was worth trying.

Sighing, Arthur tripped out of his trousers and dumped them unceremoniously on the ground before dropping to the dirt floor and working his way under the blankets. The ground was dry but it was even more deathly cold than the last cave. He was starting to think Merlin was right. Caves. Never again. They were dreadful.

“ _What_ are you doing?” Arthur exclaimed, tossing up his hands as he turned to see his servant drawing up the blankets beside him.

“I’m _freezing_ , Arthur.” He threw a hand out to the dark opening. “We just fought our way through a crazy snow-storm while headed in the wrong direction, my clothes are soaked, I can barely feel my fingers and there are only four blankets so stifle your pride for just one night and let me dry off in warmth. _Please!_ ”

Blinking, Arthur opened his mouth to say something but instantly thought better of it. He lay back down and tried to concentrate on how to get back to Camelot but his brain would not function. The blankets were not very large. Arthur could sense the back of Merlin’s calf, though he could not feel the cold skin against his own. Their bodies were both shivering uncontrollably. At least now they were out of the wind, but the fire provided very little warmth and only one of them could be facing it. Of course Arthur had immediately gravitated toward that side and Merlin hadn’t protested.

Turning to stare into the short flames, Arthur sighed. He typically slept with one arm outside of the blankets, but that would be foolish now. Instead his entire body was tucked beneath the scratchy cotton and he could feel Merlin trembling behind him. Rolling onto his back, Arthur closed his eyes before saying quite clearly, “Switch sides with me.”

Merlin, who had been listening to Arthur’s deep breathing and trying to direct his thoughts to anything but his cold body blinked in response before turning to look over his shoulder.

“What?”

Arthur sat up and threw his head toward the fire. “It’s blinding me and I can’t sleep. Switch places with me.”

Before Merlin could protest, the other man sat up and began to shift over. Merlin scrambled to comply, but ended up knocking his head into Arthur’s who immediately cursed in pain.

When the two men finally untangled their limbs and settled in opposite positions, they both sighed simultaneously.

Merlin eyed the fire. He watched the small pops and crackles. The little warmth it provided did wonders for his aching limbs. It seemed to release the tension his body had been holding all day. Although his legs were stiff, he was able to at least start moving them slowly under the blankets a little.

Merlin’s thoughts wouldn’t settle but he knew he needed sleep. If the weather would let them, they would turn around, find their mounts and ride or walk to the nearest outlying town to purchase new horses. Then there was Arthur’s excuse to Uther. He had gotten them lost while hunting. Would Uther even believe that rubbish? They weren’t as beat up as they could be, so maybe they could still pass it off as a hunting trip, but coming back with no game would-

Merlin felt an icy hand touch the curve of his waist and slowly slide over his bare stomach. A strong arm curled around him from behind and he felt warm breath touch the nape of his neck. Gently cool knees fit their way into the backs of his and strong hips braced his rear.

“Arthur?”

“I can hear you thinking. It’s annoying.”

For a moment Merlin didn’t know how to respond. Arthur’s body, cold as it was, was already beginning to warm his back.

The kisses trickling down his spine helped too, sending a pleasant tickling sensation along his sides. He knew Arthur could feel the response to his actions. Merlin turned onto his back, his bare shoulder brushing against the prince’s chest. Arthur’s hand remained on Merlin’s stomach. “…what are you doing?”

“You were cold, weren’t you?”

“Yes, but-“

And Arthur Pendragon pressed his lips to Merlin’s, silencing any more protestations. Somehow Merlin heard the prince’s usual reprimand in the kiss.

“AlrightIknow‘shutup’,” Merlin gasped as the other man’s hips brushed briefly against his. Arthur propped his body to hover above Merlin’s, knees to either side of his hips. Merlin felt Arthur’s mouth lick and nip its way down his neck, ending with teeth that grazed his collarbone.

Merlin’s hands flew to the prince’s broad shoulders where his fingers carefully traced the muscles. They then slid up the back of Arthur’s neck and became slowly tangled in his hair.

It was an extremely satisfying feeling that sent warmth down Arthur’s spine and into his stomach. Merlin began to tug gently, encouraging the prince to meet his lips which he quickly moistened with a suggestive lick. They locked mouths, Merlin whimpering appreciation as Arthur’s tongue ran over his. Arthur’s lips shifted over Merlin’s ever so slightly as he turned his head to meet a different angle every time. Merlin barely caught his breath when the knight pulled away enough to bite Merlin’s lower lip and pull leisurely. He returned the favour by drawing Arthur into another rough kiss, wrapping his lips around Arthur’s tongue and sucking at it with his whole mouth.

Merlin bucked beneath Arthur, breath short and rough. He felt the cold shock of the other man’s hands gripping his hips as he pressed their bodies together.  Merlin felt detached from his fingers as they dug into the muscles of Arthur’s back.

Nervous, Merlin babbled, “Your hands are so cold!”

“Yours aren’t exactly toasty.”

“We can fix that.”

Easing himself back to the ground, Merlin used both hands to bring Arthur’s fingers to his face.

Arthur kept his eyes on Merlin, watching as his fingers splayed over Merlin’s cheeks, thumbs resting on the corners of his jaw and body pressed heavily into Merlin’s from the chest down. Merlin grinned. Then, taking Arthur’s index finger between his teeth, he licked a line up the underside before pivoting on his tongue at the tip of Arthur’s finger and closing his lips around the base of the finger capturing it in a bubble of warm air. One by one, Merlin suckled Arthur’s fingers up to his knuckles at the top of his palm and held them against the roof of his mouth with the plane of his tongue before releasing them.

Arthur growled, ripped his unoccupied hand from Merlin’s waist and worked to remove the other man’s pants with his free hand. He didn’t bother pulling Merlin’s pants past his knees. Reclaiming his other hand, Arthur braced himself against the floor with both hands and knees. He bent over, leaving punctuated kisses down Merlin’s chest to his navel. Arthur’s tongue highlighted the subtle crease up Merlin’s stomach he had been admiring days before. He paused to exhale into the hollow of the man’s collarbone before continuing up to the neck where he bit down hard.

“Arthur!” Merlin squirmed beneath him, eyes shut tightly as he sought to simply feel. Arthur’s teeth and tongue worked the muscle and skin. Eventually his mouth pulled away just barely, leaving a large sore spot on Merlin’s neck. Merlin could feel the prince grin against the wet mark and knew it would show in the morning.

“Yes, Merlin?” Arthur’s mouth found Merlin’s ear and latched on. He nibbled from the top curve to the soft bottom where his tongue darted behind the lobe to lick along the under edge of Merlin’s ear.

Thin fingers fanned against Arthur’s cheeks, coaxing him to surface. He complied, pulling back to meet Merlin’s gaze. Arthur’s eyes focused on Merlin’s left eye, then his right. He could tell Merlin knew exactly what he was thinking: they were going to do this and it wasn’t going to be perfect, but that didn’t matter. The slight tilt of Merlin’s upper lip and the way his eyes barely narrowed…It was the same look Arthur received whenever Merlin knew Arthur’s mind was made up, that he had a plan and it wasn’t going to be easy, but that they were in it together because they both believed it was the _right_ thing to do.

Arthur slipped his hand down Merlin’s stomach and felt his muscles uncoil under his touch. Merlin jerked his hips up into Arthur’s and rather than settling back down tried to hold them there as close as he could. Arthur grinned at Merlin’s effort and shoved his own pants down one-handed, settling on his knees.

He felt Merlin slide under him, warm breath teasing Arthur’s exposed cock before-

“—oh gods, Merlin,” Arthur rasped. One hand instinctively reached for the back of Merlin’s head where his fingers slid between the dark strands and undulated in time with the man’s movements.

Merlin’s mouth worked agonizingly slow. Lips pressed tightly over the tip of Arthur’s cock before sliding down the shaft, once, up, twice, up, then pulling away to lick the crown. Then again, using his tongue and teeth to suck and graze. Merlin teased Arthur by changing his pattern, removing his mouth completely for just longer than he had previously, long enough to elicit a protest from the prince.

“Merlin…” Arthur growled impatiently until he felt the man lick the entire length of his shaft. Merlin’s attentions increased: mouth moving quicker, fingers massaging the base of Arthur’s cock until the knight thought he might permanently lose feeling in his arms.

He needed it now. “Merlin, lie down.”

The man groaned in protest but obeyed, pulling his mouth off Arthur. He laid back, eyes trained on his prince. Arthur dipped down, nipping Merlin’s ribs and stomach before reaching Merlin’s hardened shaft. Arthur wasted no time returning Merlin’s favours. His hot mouth and calloused hand worked just as hard to draw moans from the man.

When Merlin began thrusting in time, Arthur gently forced the man’s hips down. He withdrew his mouth and licked his lips before wetting his fingers.

Merlin pleaded, spreading his legs even as the prince lowered his hand and slowly inserted a moist finger. Merlin inhaled sharply; wide eyes captured a glimpse of Arthur’s hair in the firelight before his arched back brought the cave ceiling into view.

“Arthur!”

“Shh. It’s alright, Merlin.” The prince leaned forward, lowering his forehead to rest on the other man’s shoulder. He could hear Merlin’s pulse, or perhaps it was his own, throbbing against his temples.

Arthur’s breath was warm on his cheek. Merlin felt, but did not hear the words of comfort Arthur whispered as he slowly inserted another wet digit. Their half-lidded eyes swept over each other’s faces, barely catching now and then. Merlin felt Arthur’s hair tickle his nose and he twisted beneath him. “More, Arthur.”

Arthur complied, using his free hand to grasp Merlin’s cock again as his other fingers pushed in and out of Merlin’s opening. Arthur’s teeth tugged at Merlin’s ear, providing a small distraction as he inserted a third finger. The friction increased until Merlin sensed his magic, wild and willing to burst from him. It felt dangerous. His hands raked Arthur’s shoulders for support.

They caught each other’s eyes for more than a second.

Merlin nodded and Arthur removed his fingers before steadily pushing his body into motion.

The shock was painful, but pleasure won as Arthur rocked his hips and continued to work his hand on Merlin’s cock. He nudged Merlin’s legs and the man obeyed, bending his knees. Merlin breathed raggedly, moaning with each of Arthur’s thrusts. His pushed back each time. They moved awkwardly at first, horrendously out of sync, but as Arthur focused more on reacting than instigating, he felt them fall into a smooth rhythm.

Merlin’s mouth, though open in half-shuttered moans, remained incapable of speech.

His hands darted over Arthur’s shoulders, leaving a tingling sensation behind wherever they brushed. He set an elbow under for leverage and lifted himself to meet Arthur’s lips again. Their kisses became more forceful the faster Arthur pushed until at last Merlin released, spilling hot cum over his chest and stomach. He convulsed, quivering under the shockwave of pleasure that erupted inside him as Arthur shuddered above him, groaning with satisfaction. He had to brace himself with both hands to either side of Merlin’s head. For a while their chests heaved, exhales loud against the white noise of the snow storm.

At last Arthur disengaged their bodies and Merlin made to turn on his side, but the other man’s entire weight unexpectedly settled atop him.

“Arthur, get off! I can’t breathe!” Merlin complained. His arms were the only appendages not pinned under the prince’s body. He made to push him off. It didn’t work.

“Too bad. I’m tired,” Arthur grinned into Merlin’s ear. “Besides, if you can whine you can breathe and I happen to like it here.”

“You spoiled Prince,” Merlin pouted.

“Oh, fine…” Arthur relented and rolled onto his back. He stretched out his arms before bringing them back toward his stomach and Merlin dodged in between so that he was not caught outside the embrace. He settled his cheek against Arthur’s chest.

“I can’t explain it.”

He made a noise of inquiry.

“Why I’m attracted to you.”

“Bit funny to think about now considering what we’ve just done,” Merlin replied with a short laugh, though concern was mounting inside him. Arthur had avoided being courted by mysterious maidens and entranced by lunatics for more than two weeks, maybe it was just _time_ for him to get caught up in a whirlwind romance with someone.

“I meant I don’t know anything about you. Not really.”

“You met my mother. We went to my village. That should explain most of it actually.”

Arthur laughed with his mouth closed.

“And I see you every day. You know what I do. I wait on you, hand and foot!”

Arthur kissed Merlin to silence him, which made Merlin wonder whether the action was going to become routine.

“Shut up. I know what you do for the most part. I meant what do you like. Do you have any secret hobbies?”

Merlin lifted his head and braced it with his arm in a triangular shape. “Arthur, when do I have any spare time?”

“So you really don’t have anything else you do?”

How could Merlin explain to the Crown Prince that each night he studied an ancient tome of magic? In light of what they had just shared it seemed more impossible than ever.

“I read.” A pause. “A lot.”

“Alright…what sorts of books then?” It seemed like a fitting hobby for the scrawny man.

“All sorts,” Merlin returned readily, his eye turned down as he spoke. “Gaius has mostly reference materials though. I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s quite interesting but it’s just…that’s all he has.”

“But surely you did not have access to many books in Ealdor,” the prince pointed out, having seen Merlin’s humble abode. The dwelling had been devoid of anything but a table, some chairs, and a bucket or two. He hadn’t even seen a bed.

Merlin’s cheeks burned and his voice was a little strange as he continued, “Yes well, when travelers passed through, very rarely, I’d ask.”

Arthur’s eyes, gold in the firelight, studied Merlin’s face as he spoke. They traveled over the shadows below the bottom edges of his eyes to his nose and the hollow of his cheek. Reaching up, Arthur used his thumb to trace the indentations, smiling as Merlin closed his eyes at the touch.

“There’s something about you, Merlin. I can’t put my finger on it.”

Merlin collapsed his arm and rested his cheek in the dip of Arthur’s shoulder. He rubbed his face there and wiggled his body closer, enjoying the feel of skin against skin. He closed his eyes again. “Goodnight, Arthur.”

“Goodnight, Merlin.” 

\-- 

Magic tingled beneath his skin, compelling Merlin to wake up. It was often a warning sign of someone or something nearby. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes. All thoughts of sorcery left his mind. Arthur had rolled in the night and now lay with his back toward him. Merlin couldn’t help smiling at the lines that defined the other’s muscled back from the shoulder blades to his rounded ribs. The prince had the body of the country’s royal defender.

Merlin thought about reaching a finger forward to touch Arthur’s back but recoiled when he saw the man shift. Quickly closing his eyes, Merlin feigned deep sleep.

\-- 

Arthur woke to sharp sunlight reflecting off snow and into his eyes. Blinking and drowsy, he took a moment to register where he was and what he’d been doing there before falling asleep. He received a thorough explanation when he rolled over to find Merlin curled up perfectly into the space his body must’ve occupied throughout the night. A smile curved Arthur’s lips as his sleep heavy eyes opened wider trying to mark the memory.

“Merlin,” he whispered, but received no response. The pale man slept on without flinching. Arthur settled his head down on the bedroll and looked. He watched for even breathing. He took a long time admiring Merlin’s face. Then, Arthur began in a soft voice, “I thought about it and I figured it out. There is something about you, Merlin, but I don’t have to know because you’re definitely more interesting if I have to riddle you out. You’ve got secrets…I can see it when you look at me sometimes, like you want to tell me something, and even though it drives me crazy not knowing, I can’t help but trust you still. I’m the Crown Prince of Camelot and you are my servant and we really aren’t supposed to be friends but you chose to be mine anyway and I’ve trusted you since the beginning because you’re such a stubborn idiot sometimes.”

Arthur rolled onto his back, staring up at the rough ceiling. “You’re just…You understand even when I don’t. You are so… _ridiculously_ loyal. Sometimes I’m almost glad you can’t defend yourself half the time because I feel like I’m--”

Arthur stopped, glancing back at the curled up form beneath the blanket beside him. He thought he had seen movement in his peripheral but Merlin was close to drooling. Arthur sighed, “You do all the work and you barely ever ask for anything. But I’m afraid I’d do anything for you…I know I would.”

He shifted to face Merlin and brought an arm over the man’s ribcage, pulling him closer. Merlin fussed, but scooted toward the warmth, burying his face into Arthur’s chest.

Arthur rested his chin on top of Merlin’s head and felt their breathing slowly sync.

Into Merlin’s dark curls, he mumbled, “I’ll make a deal with you. So long as you’re with me, I’ll look after you. No matter what happens. I promise.”

Arthur kissed Merlin’s head and closed his eyes.


End file.
